Beauty and the Battousai
by Ashfae
Summary: A crossover between RK and the original faery tale
1. Chapter One

Once upon a time in Japan there lived a man with three daughters. His wife had died many years ago, leaving him to raise his children alone; he did the best he could, and loved them, and they did him honor. 

Their family was fairly well off. The father was a prosperous merchant who owned a fleet of ships that sailed between Japan and other foreign countries, trading rare goods. Nothing gave the man more happiness than to find something exotic from a far-off place and give it to his daughters; seeing their faces suffused with delight was all the riches he'd ever wanted. 

As the years passed, his daughters grew from bright-eyed girls into lovely young women. The eldest daughter became engaged to a jitou of the city; the middle daughter was courted by a soldier. The youngest daughter ran circles around them all, teasing and laughing. And they were all content. 

But times did not remain so blessed. In one blow, the merchant lost most of his ships and all of his money. The jitou broke off his engagement with the eldest daughter when news of the merchant's failure hit the city. The soldier had, several weeks previous, been sent to fight on the far side of the country; letters suddenly stopped coming, and the middle daughter heard no word of what might have become of him. She tried not to show how worried she was, but her skin was paler than it had ever been; all the light seemed to have gone out of her. The merchant took all these tidings hardest of all, and was striken ill; he could not get out of his bed for several weeks. 

It was the youngest daughter who took care of everything; she managed to sell their belongings for enough money to pay off her father's debtors. Some of the debtors were kind, and willing to let the debts remain unpaid, for friendship's sake; these she thanked earnestly, and many of them felt that her smile of gratitude was worth the money they had lost. It was the youngest who took care of her father and older sisters; she cared for her father as best she could, and comforted her sisters as they grieved over their lost lovers. It was the youngest who, infuriated with the jitou's abandonment of his fiancee, sent him a scathing note stating exactly what she thought of his greed. She also sent letter after letter to the gunsou who had sent the middle daughter's soldier off to war, begging for news of him. No answer from the jitou or the gunsou ever came. 

It was the youngest daughter who managed, somehow, to sell their house and belongings for enough money to get them all out of the city they had learned to hate. Years before, a relative had left them a house in a village far to the north; the father had never gotten around to selling it. The daugther decided that it would suit their purposes very well. As soon as their father was recovered enough to travel, they left. 

The journey to the village was very hard, and took several weeks. Afterwards, none of them- not even the youngest- could remember it. All that remained was a haze of traveling and despair. 

But by the time they arrived in the countryside that was to become their new home, they began to feel some stirrings of hope. The area was very beautiful, and the people seemed friendly; strangers waved from the side of the road as they passed by, and occassionally asked them to stop and sit down and share news of what was happening in the city. 

But the merchant and his daughters did not wish to talk about the city, so they smiled and shook their heads. Still, they kept the memory of the kindness, and were comforted. 

When they finally arrived at the village that would now be theirs, they were more comforted still. The people there remembered the old woman- the merchant's sister- who had lived there before, and welcomed her relatives warmly. The innkeeper showed them to their new house. As the two younger daughters stood looking at it, supporting their still-weak father between them, the eldest took the innkeeper aside and spoke to him for a moment. She returned with a smile on her face, and said that she had secured herself a job working as a waitress at the inn. 

This news gave them all strength, for the only thing the youngest daughter had not been able to think of was how they would fend for themselves once they arrived. As the days passed, the eldest daughter spent all her time at the inn, waiting tables and learning to cook. The middle and youngest daughters ran about in a flurry of cleaning, and gradually the house became less dusty. The father was still ill enough that he spent most of his time in bed, but as time went he began to regain his health. 

The income earned by the eldest daughter was not much, but it was enough. They learned to save money in all manner of ways, stretching their meager income as best they could. Before long the middle daughter- who had always been clever- convinced the village sanba to take her on as an apprentice. The youngest daughter stayed at home, keeping the house, watching over their father, and generally keeping in charge of things. She tried to learn to cook, but had a tendency to burn things, which her sisters teased her about endlessly. Still, on the whole, things went well. Slowly- cautiously- they all learned once more to be happy. 

After a year had passed and they had firmly settled down, a letter arrived for the father. It was from an old retainer of his in the city; one of his ships, thought to be destroyed in a storm, had returned laden with goods. If the father would be willing to return to the city for a time, the retainer would help him sell the goods. 

And so the former merchant left his daughters for a time, traveling towards the city witha group of other men who wished to go there. The journey back was not as long as the first had been, but just as unmemorable. He parted company with his friends upon arrival, and walked on the streets of the city alone, with his own two feet. He remembered with irony how often he had ridden in a horse and carriage down the same paths. He did not miss those times as much as he thought he might. 

The goods from the ship, and the ship itself, were sold quickly and easily. But all of the money went towards paying the debts that had been left behind when his family had quit the city, for the youngest daughter had not been able to manage everything. There was just enough money for a horse and the journey back. 

The merchant left as soon as he could, despite the lateness of the season. Winter was approaching, and it was a dangerous time to be traveling. But all he could think of was his wasted trip, and his anxiousness to be back home with his daughters. And so, alone, he set off. 

The storm hit when he was very near home; it came quick and fierce, the snow blocking his eyes and the wind blocking his ears until he no longer one direction from another. He gave up trying to guide his horse, and let the creature wander where she wished. 

After some time, he noticed that his horse seemed to know where she was going, though he couldn't imagine how. No sooner has he realized this then they broke through the blizzard into a clearing. One minute snow was slipping across his face, the next...nothing. There was a clear section of grass, which the mare stared munching on happily. The merchant could only look around himself in bewilderment. 

On the grass before him stood a path, which led towards a city. Occassionally- so quickly that he could not be certain he saw them at all- lights would flicker in the windows of the buildings. But aside from those brief flashes, the city was dark. The sky above them was the color of twilight, though he would have been willing to swear that it was only midafternoon. He could make no sense of the situation- he had never heard of a city this large in this area. He had not even heard of any villages, only miles and miles of forest and mountains. 

But the grass was real under his feet, and his skin was still chilled from the storm that raged on merrily a few feet behind him. 

In wearied confusion, he left his horse- who was still contentedly eating the grass that the merchant's mind told him could not exist- and walked along the path that led to the city. The only sound to be heard was that of his own shoes scuffling along the trail. There was no sound eminating from the city itself- no other people no movement, not even any birds. The silence added to the unrealness of the place. 

Before long the merchant had reached a line of dark buildings; as he approached, a light lit up in one of them, and the door slid open- apparently of its own volition. Afraid but curious, he approached; through the half-open doorway he could see a table laid out with food. There was more then any ten men could be expected to eat, yet only one table setting. 

Overwhelmed by hunger and exhaustion, the merchant forgot to be careful of propriety. He entered the room and sat down gladly, and began eating with a good heart. He never moved to put more food on his plate, yet his plate was never emptied. 

Eventually he had his fill of eating, and his great weariness began to make itself felt. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a futon, covered in blankets. Part of his mind wondered at this, for he was certain it had not been there when he had entered the room. 

But the rest of him was too tired to care, and slept soundly until morning. 

He was profoundly disoriented when he awoke, and did not fully remember the events of the night before until he smelled something wonderful, and looked over to find the table where he had eaten dinner now covered with breakfast. As before, the amount of food on his plate never seemed to lessen, regardless of how much he ate. 

By this point he was recovered enough to think past the wonder of what was happening to him, and to wish for a chance to thank his unseen benefactor. After he had finished his breakfast, he resolved to go looking for whoever it was that had done him so much kindness. 

The sky was now the color of early morning, but the merchant could still find no traces of the sun. The buildings were as silent as they had been the night before, but no longer as oppressive. He walked through the streets, looking for any sign of life. 

After an hour or so had passed- it was difficult to tell time in this unworldly place- he came to a garden. It was the largest he had ever seen, filled with more flowers than he could name. Paths meandered through it, lined with sakura and plum trees. He breathed in the scent of them until he was dizzy with sweetness, and more content than he could remember being in a long time. 

He thought momentarily of his youngest daughter. She would so love this garden...her name meant "fragrant," and she had always loved flowers. He wished he could show it to her. He had not been able to find anything in the city to bring his daughters; it seemed cruel to him, especially cruel to not have anything for his youngest, who had worked so very hard to save them all. Perhaps he could take some to her; if he kept them under his coat and treated them gently, they might survive the trip home. 

With that thought, he reached out and broke off a branch of white plum blossoms. 

There was no sound to warn him, no shadow to tell him of another's presence. But in the moment between when he broke the branch off the tree and when he took his next breath, a blade was pressed against his throat. He stood very still, head tilted back slightly, heart pounding in his chest as a voice whispered from behind him... 

"Give me one reason not to kill you." 

The merchant struggled hard to keep from stammering. "I-I meant no harm!" 

The blade pressed a little more tightly against his throat. 

"P-please! I only wanted it for my daughter. S-she is so kind, and...I thought surely, after all you have done for me, you would not begrudge the loss of a few flowers..." 

"You are presumptuous." But the edge pulled away slightly, and the attacker seemed inclined to listen to his tale. So the merchant told- quickly, carefully- about his troubles in the city, how his family had moved far away, how his daughters had learned the strength to support their family. He dwelled especially the youngest and her kindness. The other man listened with a stillness that seemed inhuman. 

The merchant finished: "It...it seemed so hard, not to be able to bring her something, in thanks. She loves flowers so much, and she has worked so hard..." His voice trailed off as he waited for his attacker to pronounce a sentence. 

The other was silent for a long while. When he did speak, his voice was soft, without the air of menace that had accompanied it before. "I will spare your life if your daughter comes here." 

The merchant's uneasiness had been draining away slightly, despite the sword at his neck; now it returned full-force, turned into panic. "Ah, no!" he cried. "You may think that I have no honor, but surely you cannot expect me to sacrifice my daughter's life for mine!" 

"I said nothing of sacrifice," the other returned harshly. "I swear to you, if the girl comes here she will come to no harm. Not from me, or from anything in this city. I swear it by my own life. Do you doubt my word?" 

"N-no!" the merchant stammered. 

At that the blade left his throat entirely, and he was pushed forward. He stumbled for a second, catching his balance, then turned to look at his attacker. It took him several minutes to believe what he saw. 

The other man was short, with long red hair tied back in a high ponytail to keep it out of his face. His hakama were white, but his gi was a shade of blue so dark that it was almost black. He looked ordinary enough, except for two things: first, he was much younger than the merchant would have expected, only a few years older than his youngest daughter. 

Second, his cheek was marked with two scars, one going from his temple to his chin, the other staring near the eye and crossing the first. And, seeing that, the merchant knew who he was. 

_The Hitokiri Battousai!_

But that was impossible! The Battousai was a myth, a monster created to scare children into obedience...and even if not, the war that he had supposedly fought in ended decades ago; far too long ago for this man, who was barely more than a boy, to still be so young. 

And yet...after seeing the cross-scar, remembering the way he had appeared out of nowhere, the implacability in his voice...the merchant found it hard to doubt. 

Even as his mind tried to make sense of these conclusions, the Battousai looked back at him. "Take your horse; go home. Tell your daughters what has happened here. If one of them will agree of her own free will to come back in your stead, then you will live. If not, then within a month's time you must return and face me. If you do not, then I will come and find you." 

In his voice was everything cold and deadly, the certainty of any creature who has ever hunted and killed by night. 

At that the merchant's panic overcame him, and he ran as quickly as he could in a direction that he hoped would bring him towards the gate. It did; his horse was still there, eyeing him curiously as he ran towards it. The mare shied away for a moment, then let him scramble onto her back. 

They rode away as quickly as possible, the merchant checking over his shoulder every few minutes to make certain nothing was following. 

Somehow- hours or days later- he arrived home. His daughters cries of welcome turned into concern as he all but fell off his horse, into their arms. Out of his hand fell a branch covered in white plum blossoms; the youngest daughter caught it, and later placed the petals in a bowl of water above their fireplace. 

The father lay in bed for days as one delirious, no more than half-awake, moaning in his sleep. 

After a week had passed he recovered, and drew his daughters close to hear the sad tale. The eldest and next-eldest daughters listened with expressions of growing horror; they had heard stories of the Hitokiri Battousai. Indeed, the middle daughter had made up a few stories about him herself when she was younger, to scare her young sister with. As the merchant reached the part where the Battousai had delievered his ultimatum- that one of them must go stay with him, or their father die- they covered their mouths in terror and grief. 

The youngest listened with an increasingly somber expression, and made not a sound. When her father had finished his story and silence surrounded all of them, she said only, "Father, when the month's time is up, I will return with you." 

They all argued with her. The sisters pleaded that no, none of them would go, it was a trick, a bluff, a dream...surely it was not necessary. The father pleaded that no, he would return alone, and let the punishment be his only. 

But the youngest daughter's will was strong, and she would have none of it. Eventually they became convinced of her determination, and accepted her choice. After three more weeks had passed, she and her father set out on foot towards the great forest in which the city lay hidden. 

They were lost within minutes of entering the woods, but the youngest daughter's step did not falter. Before long they had found the path that led towards the city. 

Seeing it they both paused for a moment. Then the youngest daughter turned to her father and said only, "If you leave now, you'll be home in time for supper." When he hesitated, she smiled at him. 

He looked as though he wanted to protest, or to reach out for her, or to do anything except what she was now asking of him. But instead he nodded, slowly, and turned. She watched as he walked away, until the trees blocked her sight of him entirely, and Kaoru was left alone. 

* * *

[ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu][1]

   [1]: mailto:ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu



	2. Chapter Two

The gate opened as Kaoru approached; hearing her father's story had not prepared her enough, and she jumped in surprise at seeing the iron bars move by themselves. Once open, they were still again. 

Kaoru took a deep breath, and walked through. 

The sky was the color of twilight, and the air was warm. She was confused at first; she had thought it mid-afternoon, and knew for certain that it was the middle of winter. But she was walking into something foreign, something magic...what did normal laws care about a place like this? 

She walked forward, and would not let herself be afraid. 

The path before her stretched out, surrounded on either side by a large field. No wildflowers grew there; it was stark and empty. There was no movement of any kind, not even a wind to move the grasses. She kept her eyes fixed on the city in front of her. Most of the houses were dark, but as she approached she could see lights flickering in the windows, here and then gone again in a breath, almost too quick to be seen. She took hope from this; perhaps the city was not deserted, as her father had thought. Perhaps she would not be alone after all, with only a monster to keep her company... 

She shook her head. That was not to be thought of. She hadn't even met him yet. 

But soon, soon... 

Not yet. 

After about an hour's walk she entered the city proper. The houses were old, many of them verging on uninhabitable. The lights that had at first comforted her were now bewildering; they seemed only to exist in the houses ahead of her, and by the time she reached them and peered anxiously through the windows and doors, the houses would be dark once more. There was no sound aside from the slight tapping of her own shoes on the road, nothing to see but twilight's shadows. Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, it would seem as though the houses were entirely translucent, that she could almost see through them to the great plains beyond...but whenever she turned her head to look, they were there, silent and formidable. 

Kaoru twisted the fabric of her kimono around her fingers nervously. She had never seen- or even imagined- any place like this. This was a ghost village. She was an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life- what was she doing here? She shivered, tempted to turn back to the gate, even though she had promised. Not her father, not the Battousai, but herself. She'd vowed that she would do this thing...but she was afraid. However she tried to deny it, she was very afraid, wanting nothing more than to be home with the father and sisters she loved, in a place she knew. 

Just as the thought crossed her mind, a light flickered on in one of the houses ahead of her. She approached, and the light did not fade away. She stood directly in front of the building. The light remained steady. Kaoru took a deep breath and put her foot on the first step of the porch. It was solid beneath her feet; she'd half expected her foot to pass through it. She walked up the remainder of the steps and slid the door open. She stepped out of her shoes and walked through the entrance. 

The first thing she noticed about the room was that it was empty; Kaoru felt equal parts regret and relief that there were no other people. She looked more closely. It was a small house, but comfortable enough...she almost liked it, as she had not liked anything in this strange place. Lit candles were attached to sparsely decorated walls; only the occassional picture or calligraphy stood out against their starkness. The floor was covered with a tatami mat that scrunched beneath her bare feet. A table was laid out in the center of the room, covered with food. Any other observations fled at the thought of dinner; it was hours since she had last eaten. Without thinking she sat down and began to eat with a good appetite. 

A thought tickled the back of her mind: she had heard more than one story of travelers who had eaten the food of a strange place and then been forced to stay there forever, enchanted. Her chopsticks hesistated for a moment. She forced the thoughts from her mind, instead concentrating on the fact that she was very hungry and would have to eat sometime. It was not very likely that she would ever go home again in any case...but she would not think of that. 

She finished eating, and looked around the room once more. In a room off to the side she could see something that looked like the outline of a futon. Curious, she set down her chopsticks, stood, and went to look. It was a simple bedroom, much like the one she'd left behind; Kaoru's knees buckled slightly at the thought of rest. It had been a long, very long day, and she had not slept much since her father had come home with the news that either he or she must be sacrificed to a monster known only from old stories. She bit her lip, torn between the need for sleep and the desire to know a little more about the situation she'd gotten into. 

There was a whisper of sound behind her; she turned to find a chair sitting beside the doorway. Folded on the seat was a lovely pink kimono decorated with white leaves; a red obi rested on the arm of the chair, the ends just touching the floor. She was sure neither chair nor kimono had been there when she entered the room. Kaoru frowned, uncertain; the obi moved slightly with a breeze that Kaoru could not feel. 

She sighed and moved forward. She wanted to know what was to become of her. If they had provided her with a beautiful outfit for her execution, well then; it could do no added harm for her to wear it. Her life was no longer hers; it had been given in exchange for her father's. She would do whatever this strange place wished of her. 

It was strange to wear a kimono, like stepping back into her old life, before her father's business had collapsed...once she had owned many- even a few made of silk- but that was long ago. They had all been sold with the rest of the family's possessions, and since then she had made do with cheaper clothing. It took a few minutes for her fingers, numbed by the day's experiences and by a year without practice, to tie the knot in her obi. 

She dressed as quickly as she could and and left the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as she saw the table had been cleared. The plates and food had all vanished, replaced by a single candle flickering in a glass holder. Kaoru shook her head, not willing to puzzle out that bit of strangeness just yet, and walked back through the front door, down the steps. She couldn't help shivering a bit as her feet once more stepped onto the abandoned road. At random, she picked a direction and set out with determination, trusting the city around her to lead her where it wanted. 

She walked for several minutes, looking around her. There were no more lights flickering, now; the houses were still. The sky above was still the color of twilight, though she was certain that several hours must have passed since her arrival. 

A sudden breeze caught at her hair, brushing against her skin gently. The smell of it made her gasp with sudden feeling. 

Flowers. She was sure of it. Flowers would be a welcome sight in a place as lonely and unfriendly as this. Kaoru walked a bit faster through the streets, searching desperately for the source of the breeze. She stopped abruptly as she turned a corner and saw a figure standing in the street ahead of her. 

It was a woman; her back was to Kaoru, so she couldn't see a face. The woman had long dark hair cascading down her back. Her kimono was white, embroidered with lavender flowers. Her obi was deep blue. Kaoru stepped forward, one hand reached out and her mouth opening to speak; before she had a chance to say a word, the woman turned and looked over her shoulder. Her face was young and beautiful, the features delicate. Her eyes were very sad. Even as Kaoru completed her step, the woman faded before her eyes. 

Kaoru's breath caught in her throat with grief; the woman's face had been sad, but not unkind, and it would be so good to know that there was another person here to talk to, anyone at all...she rushed forward, looking around for any glimpse of the woman. She turned another corner, searching, and stopped at the sight of something else. 

Spreading out before her was an orchard, seperated from the city only by a small fence with a gate. Hundreds of cherry blossoms in full bloom swayed easily in the breeze. The sight of the bright pink petals cheered Kaoru enormously, and she walked through the gate without hesitating, eager to be near them. 

She walked under the trees, cupping her hands to catch the falling petals, holding them up to her nose and breathing in their scent with a sigh. Now she would not be lonely; she had the trees to keep her company, to provide a relief from the endless succession of empty houses. And she would find the woman again. Perhaps she was only hiding somewhere deeper in the orchard. 

But even this thought could not comfort her for long. There was still too much unknown, and she had yet to meet her captor. She still did not know what her future was to be, or if. The Battousai had promised her father that no harm would come to her...but what was the word of such a monster worth? Surely it could not be trusted. Perhaps these last few moments with the flowers were all she had, but she could no longer enjoy them. 

She let the petals fall between her fingers through the ground, and walked on. A sixth sense led her through the orchard, until, beneath a tree just ahead, she could see a shadow. Not a woman's shape. 

She would not let herself be afraid. She thought of how angry she had been upon first hearing that someone had threatened her father's life, just for the loss of a few flowers. That thought- that _waste_, which had brought her here to this moment- was enough to drive away any fear. Perhaps her father had stained his honor by taking the Battousai's flowers without permission, but this was a high price to ask them to pay. 

She walked forward and stopped in front of the shadowed figure, hands clenched tightly at her sides. 

The man looked at her for several minutes, then bowed to her. "Good evening." 

"Good evening, mikoto-sama," Kaoru said quietly. 

"I am no lord," the man returned. "I am the Battousai; call me that, please." There was silence between them for a moment. Kaoru looked at the ground, her toes scrunching in her sandals. She did not have anything to say. 

Finally, Battousai spoke again, his voice falling into the silence like hard drops of crystal. "Did you come here of your own free will?" 

Kaoru nodded, mute. 

"Do you hate me?" 

The words were not crystal this time, but softer...rain instead of ice. Kaoru frowned, defiant. She would not be afraid. "All I know of you is that you told my father he would die unless I took his place; why shouldn't I hate you?" 

Softer still, this time. "I did not threaten him. I only said that if you did not come, he would have to return to face me. I never said I would kill him when he came." 

She gasped. "You mean...you would have let him go? Then, why? Why ask for me at all? Did I come here for nothing?" 

"I had to." A breath. "I'm sorry." 

Kaoru's head whirled. "I don't understand." 

His face was shadowed by the branches of the tree he stood under, but she could see his expression. To her astonishment, he almost smiled, meeting her eyes for just a moment. His shone amber, gleaming brightly in the dusk. His voice was edged with regret. "No, I would imagine not. Again, I am sorry." 

There was a long moment of silence as Kaoru tried desperately to think of something to say, a question she might ask. "There are... lights...in the village," she offered tentatively. "Are there other people here?" She couldn't bring herself to describe the woman she had seen. 

The Battousai shook his head. "I have never seen anyone else. But there is a...a magic, if you will, at work here. You found a house set up for you, I believe? With dinner waiting?" She nodded. "You can stay there, if you wish. Don't be afraid; there is nothing in this city that can harm you. Not even I can harm you, whatever you might think of me." 

Kaoru bit her lip, not willing to look at him. 

"I swear it." 

"I believe you." And suddenly, she did. There was an air about him... this man was dangerous, yes. He could kill her as easily as blinking. Of that she was sure. But she was also certain that he did not lie, that he would never lie to her. With that realization was born something else: a wary trust, stretched thin between the two of them. 

"My name is Kaoru," she offered quietly. Surely it could not harm her to give him her name. And if they were the only two people in this place...she wanted to be called by her name. Even if it was by this man. 

"Kaoru-dono." Battousai closed his eyes briefly, as though that one word was a burden too heavy for him to bear, a gift he could not accept. 

While his eyes were closed she was able to examine him, for just a moment. The dark clothing. The long red hair, pulled high in a ponytail. The delicate features so sharply in contrast with the angry crossed scars on his cheek. She shivered at the sight of them; there was something about them that frightened her, even more than the sound of his name. She looked away quickly, before he had a chance to catch her staring. 

"Kaoru-dono." 

His voice sounded as though it had the beginnings of a question in it; she glanced back at him, twisting her fingers nervously together in the folds of her kimono and hoping that he couldn't see them. 

"Will you marry me?" 

The wind was rushing in her ears; the ground was falling to pieces beneath her feet and she couldn't speak because of the terror choking her. All the memories of the stories came back to her, all the tales of the monster who had killed more men than could be counted, every story that her older sister had ever used to scare her with. She gasped for breath, trying to force her way back through panic. 

She thought of small things, simple things. Her fingers, wrapped in the cotton material of her kimono. It was soft, familliar under her touch. Familiar, ordinary...unlike everything else in this strange city she'd found herself in, where ghosts walked in the streets and kimonos appeared out of thin air, where the _Battousai_ had just asked her to marry him..."Oh god, what can I say?" she murmured helplessly. She had not intended for him to hear, but he did. 

"Your honest answer. Nothing else." 

"No!" The word broke from her throat with a vehemeance that startled her, even though she knew she could have given no other answer. 

"Please don't be afraid." He did not sound surprised. His voice was unhappy, but she could not find it within herself to feel sorry for him. "You can go now, if you wish. Good night." 

It sounded like a dismissal. She wanted it to be a dismissal. She backed up a step, then another. He did not move, did not even look at her. Her courage broke; she turned around and fled, running as quickly as she could back towards the village. Automatically her feet retraced the path towards the house she'd found her supper in, half an hour ago, a thousand years ago. Only after she had passed the doorway did Kaoru collapse to her knees, her entire body shaking and her face covered in tears. 

* * *

Yes, it's completely necessary that he propose. If you've read the original story of _Beauty and the Beast_ (NOT the Disney version, though I like that one), you'll know why. If you haven't read the original faery tale, just take my word for it that 1) it's necessary, and 2) why it's necessary _will_ be explained later. =) 

Thanks to B.Na, who gave me a lot of helpful comments on this chapter. =) 

[ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu][1]

   [1]: mailto:ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu



	3. Chapter Three

**************************************************

Beauty and the Battousai: Chapter Three

  


by Ashfae

**************************************************

Kaoru woke with a sense of profound disorientation. She could not remember falling asleep, only hours of relentless turning and tossing combined with a homesickness so deep that it clawed at her throat. She soon remembered where she was and why, but kept her eyes resolutely closed, hoping that perhaps it had all been a dream, that any minute now her sisters would come and pull her out of bed... 

She sighed, and forced her eyes open. She was in the house she had eaten dinner at the night before, the one she had tenatively claimed as her own. She crawled out of the futon and went to the window; the view was exactly the same as it had been the night before, the city just as empty, the sky the same shade of rose. There was no way of knowing how long she had slept. Kaoru bit her lip, more unnerved by her inability to sense time passing than by the unnatural silence. 

She turned around, expecting to see the kimono she had torn off the night before still lying in a heap beside the futon. Her eyes widened upon seeing that it had disappeared, and a new one was folded nearly on a stool beside her bed--sky-blue, with embroidered butterflies in silver gilt thread that gleamed in the half-light. Kaoru had never seen anything so beautiful. She reached out to touch the shimmering embroidery, feeling a small pang of guilt for the other kimono, which she had treated so carelessly. But it had disappeared, along with the clothes she had brought from home. There was nothing else for her to wear. She lifted it from the stool and put it on, tying the obi around her waist with a silver cord and feeling self-conscious. She expected someone to appear, solely to chastise her for daring to wear clothes rich enough to belong to an empress. 

But no one came. After several minutes of anxious waiting, she slid the door to her room open and peered out. 

The outer room looked just as it had the night before, with one exception: breakfast was laid out on the table, more food than she could ever hope to finish resting on finely decorated china. There was no sign of how it had appeared, and Kaoru wondered... perhaps someone hid in the city and cooked, leaving meals and sneaking away without waiting for thanks. Perhaps ghosts caused them to appear from thin air. 

Kaoru breathed in deep and tried not to be nervous. However it had been made, it was still food, and she was certainly hungry. She sat down before the table and began to eat. The meal was freshly prepared, and very good; she could feel her spirits lifting with every bite. She fingered the china cup that held her tea. "Where did you come from?" she mused aloud. "Did...did he do this for me?" She couldn't bring herself to say Battousai's name. She couldn't imagine of anyone else who could be responsible, but the idea of that stern, dark man preparing breakfast was inconceivable. No matter how polite he'd been the night before, no matter how quiet his manner had been when he asked, "Will you marry me?"... 

Kaoru shivered. She refused to think of it, and forced her mind back to the mystery of her breakfast. If not the Battousai, who? Perhaps there was someone else hiding here, someone even he was unaware of... 

She laid down her chopsticks and considered. Battousai had not sounded as though he expected her to do anything here. Or as though he intended to kill her. Perhaps she was free to explore, if she wished...free to try and learn something about the mystery of this city. Free to keep herself occupied. 

The woman. She would look for the woman she had seen the day before--the only person besides the Battousai that Kaoru had seen in the city. The hope of finding companionship was tangible in Kaoru's throat. It would mean much, to know that she was not alone here. 

That determined, she was anxious to get started. She looked down at the emptied plates, wrinkling her nose. "I hate doing dishes," she muttered, not wanting to postpone her search for even a minute. They could wait until she got back. There was no one around to mind, except the Battousai...and if he wanted her breakfast plates cleaned immediately, he could do them himself. Kaoru stood, and went outside. 

The street was empty, and no lights flickered in the other houses. The city was as abandoned as it had been the night before. The sky was still poised between day and dusk. There was neither sun nor moon--only the pink-purple-gold that shows just as the sun sets, or just before it rises. Only barely enough light to see by. 

She peered right and left, searching for any sign of another inhabitant, but found only shadows. Finally she dared to approach one of the houses and glance inside. 

A candle blazed into life, brightening the room; Kaoru jumped back, startled. There was no one inside who could have lit it, no tinder or matches or anything that could have been used to spark the flame. Cautiously, she stepped inside. More candles flared as she entered. Soon, the room was filled with light. But there wasn't much to see;the interior was nearly bare of furnishings. There was a table in the center of the room, a small bookshelf next to one wall, and a painting of the ocean hanging above it. Nothing more. 

Kaoru walked over to the bookshelf and examined it. She had not read any of the books herself, but they seemed in good condition, and the shelf shone as though it had been polished recently. There was none of the dust that should have accumulated in an abandoned city. Even the floor was swept. 

But the house was empty. Aside from the flickering candles and the clean floors, there was no sign of life. Disheartened, Kaoru left. 

Her wanderings for the rest of the day continued in much the same vein. The city was endless, every house like the one before, each one containing only the barest necessities of a home. Her only landmarks were the long road leading to the gate and the orchard in the center of the city. Eternity stretched out in all other directions. There was no sign of the mysterious woman from the night before...no sign of anyone, not even the Battousai himself. By that point, Kaoru admitted silently, she would have welcomed even his company. She had been gone for what seemed like several hours before realizing that she could not remember how to get back to the house she had tentatively claimed as hers. The thought of being completely lost in the bleak sequence of houses was terrifying. 

Just before she began to panic, she saw that one--and only one--of the buildings on the street ahead of her had a light shining in the window. She ran towards it gratefully, glad of having a place that she could try to think of as a home...or if nothing else, as a respite from the rest of the city. As she entered she kicked off her sandals and rolled her kimono sleeves back, preparing to do battle with the breakfast dishes she'd left lying on the table a lifetime ago. 

But the breakfast dishes were gone. In their place a hearty lunch was resting...or perhaps dinner, for her stomach had been complaining for a _long_ time. Kaoru sighed, thinking that she would gladly have cleaned the dishes herself, if only she could have met the person who did it in her stead. 

"Kaoru-dono?" 

She nearly shrieked, startled by the sound of her own name, by the first sound she had heard all day. She turned; Battousai standing in the doorway, watching her. "Y-yes?" her voice shook. 

"May I come in?" he asked politely. 

Kaoru nodded uncertainly, wondering why he had bothered to ask. 

"Thank you." He stepped out of his shoes and entered. He glanced at her with surprise. "That's not the kimono you were wearing yesterday." 

She blushed, nervousness overwhelming her. "I found it when I woke up this morning. Was I...should I have left it alone?" 

Battousai shook his head immediately. "It must have been meant for you; by all means, wear it. The color suits you. May I join you for dinner?" 

Kaoru felt her heart beat more loudly. "You can do anything you wish, Battousai. This is your city." 

Battousai's smile held more irony than amusement. "No." 

He sat, offering no more explanation for his cryptic response. Kaoru hesitated, then decided not to ask, distracting herself by pouring rice into a bowl and handing it to him. He accepted with dignity, and said nothing more as he ate. 

Kaoru picked at her food rather than eating it, and felt the silence bearing down around her. She drummed her fingers on the side of her own rice-bowl, focusing on the rhythmic sound instead of the silence that stretched taut between herself and her companion. 

"What did you do today?" Battousai asked suddenly. 

Kaoru was startled into the truth. "I explored all the houses, looking for...I was hoping..." her voice trailed off, unwilling to admit that she had been praying that she was not trapped all alone in this place with him. 

He half-smiled. "Yes. When I first arrived, I did the same thing. I have never seen any other living creature, however. No person, no animal. No sounds, save those I make myself." 

"I...don't understand," Kaoru said, confused. "When you first arrived? You...you were hoping to find other people, too? How long have you been here?" 

"A long time." 

Something in his voice forbade her to ask any more questions on the subject. She swallowed, trying to think of a way to direct the conversation back to a safer topic. Her mind seized on something that had perplexed her earlier. "Who cooks, here? Where did this meal come from? Did you...?" She let her voice trail off, not sure how to phrase what she wanted to know. 

Battousai shook his head immediately. "No. It is the same for you, I think, as it is for me. When I wake, breakfast is waiting. The dishes disappear when the meal ends. I don't know why." 

"You don't? But..." Kaoru couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. 

"But what?" 

"I...nothing," she said. She turned her attention back to her dinner. The mystery was more confusing than ever. She'd assumed that the Battousai was the master of the city, but it almost sounded as though he were a prisoner. And that made no sense. 

For a while there was only the chinking and chewing sounds of two people eating, until Battousai paused, chopsticks still raised to his mouth, to look at her intently. "I told you that there was nothing for you to fear. This place is strange, yes. Food appears with no sign of preparation, the sky never changes, the trees are always flowering. But there is nothing that I know of that can harm you here, except for me. And I promise, by my sword, that I will never-- _could_ never-- hurt you." 

Kaoru nodded as though agreeing, but inwardly wondered why, if that was the case, he still carried his two swords. 

Perhaps Battousai noticed the shadows in her face, the way she couldn't meet his eyes. "You will not trust me, then?" he asked, almost sadly. 

Something angry in Kaoru raised its head. "You've given me little reason to trust you," she retorted. 

He sighed, a sound of such pain that she almost winced at hearing it, and more than half wanted to apologize. 

"Will you marry me?" 

Kaoru stared at him, then let out a sob of laughter, incredulous. "If I don't trust you, how could I ever marry you?" 

His smile was ironic, turned inward with mockery. The sight of it hurt her even more than the sigh he had uttered only moments before, and she looked away. He stood up, letting the chopsticks fall, and bowed his head to her. "Thank you for letting me share your meal," he said, as though she were a gracious lady conferring an honor upon him, rather than the girl he had forced to join him in confinement. Kaoru heard him leave, heard his footsteps on the gravel street outside. Only then did she let out the breath she had been holding. 

She tried to finish her meal, but her appetite had entirely evaporated, and she could not even pretend to find the food appealing. She pushed the dishes away, looking down at the table and trying not to feel guilty. He was a monster. He was a killer. He'd forced her to come to this awful, terrifying place. He was her jailer, the person who kept her from returning to the family she loved. He didn't deserve her trust. As for marrying him...it was absurd. She couldn't marry someone she didn't love, and she couldn't possibly love someone she didn't trust. The very idea was inconceivable. And where did he think he'd find a priest to perform the marriage ceremony in this empty city, anyway? 

Frustrated, she stood up and walked back outside, hoping that a walk in the orchard would clear her head. She looked at the street carefully, wondering if...but Battousai was gone, driven away by her harsh words. There would be no chance to apologize, not immediately. She sighed and walked in a direction that she hoped would take her to the orchard. She found it quickly and easily, and let herself wander lost in thought. 

It was not true, what she had told Battousai the day before...that all she knew of him was the threat he had made to her father. She had heard all of the stories of the legendary killer...his thirst for blood, his invincible sword, the number of men he had slain-- which grew larger every time the story was told. One of her own sisters had invented tales in which Battousai was a demon who hunted down innocent girls, slitting their throats or strangling them with their own hair ribbons. They had given Kaoru nightmares for years, even after her sister had stopped trying to scare her. Even though she had never really believed them. 

The stories seemed even more unbelievable now, faced with this quiet man. The contradiction was too great. She could not be afraid of him. She could be angry with him, even hate him...but not fear him. So she did trust him, at least a little. She could at least be polite. 

Even if she shivered every time the word Battousai passed across her lips, every time she looked at the scar that marred his features. Even if she would always refuse to marry him, no matter how many times he asked or what he threatened her with. 

As she thought that, Kaoru noticed something odd. There was a large shadow up ahead, hidden between the trees. It looked like a building. Not part of the city, but something separate. Even as she noticed that, she realized that the trees around her had thickened so that she could no longer see the city at all...as though she were standing in a boundless forest instead of a small orchard. 

As the approached, she could see the building more clearly. It was a cabin, nestled deep in the heart of the trees. Curious, Kaoru pushed the door open and looked inside, then stopped dead in the doorway from surprise. 

There was a woman lying on the floor, her kimono spread in a white pool around her. The same woman that Kaoru had seen in the street, the day before yesterday. Kaoru rushed over and knelt beside her, reaching out to check the woman's pulse. 

Her hand passed through the woman's body. 

Kaoru jerked her hand back, then reached again. She hadn't imagined it; the woman seemed solid enough, but could not be touched. 

The woman stirred; Kaoru leapt back, her heart racing in fear, and watched as the woman sat up and held a hand to her head, moaning softly in pain. "Are...are you all right?" Kaoru asked tremulously. There was no response, and Kaoru knew that her question had gone unheard, that she could do no more than observe the scene unfolding in front of her. 

The woman let out a small cry and pounced on something lying a few feet away-- a delicate, trampled plum blossom. She held it to her chest, hair framing her face and shoulders slumping into a position that spoke more eloquently of despair than any poet ever could. Kaoru felt tears start up in her eyes, and wanted more than ever to be able to comfort this strange woman, to know what had caused her to feel such suffering. She wanted to beat her hands against the walls in frustration, to rail against her inability to act. But she only watched, hands clasped tightly together in front of her. 

The woman pulled herself to her feet, swaying slightly as though faint. Her eyes fell upon something else lying on the floor: a tanto blade, the steel glinting hard in the fading light. She picked it up, gripped it in her right hand. Her left fingers still curled protectively around the plum blossom. 

She walked to the door and looked outside. Kaoru followed, expecting to see the orchard in full bloom, as it had been when she arrived. 

But the scene that met her eyes was entirely different. The cabin was surrounded by forest and falling snow. It had been warm, spring weather when she set foot in the cabin; now a blizzard raged. The scene didn't look at all familiar. 

Then Kaoru gasped, for she could see two figures outlined by the snow. The first was a tall, heavily muscled man, who held his sword up in front of him as a banner. 

The other was the Battousai. 

Kaoru almost called his name, almost ran to him, overwhelmed with relief at seeing someone that she knew would be able to see her and speak to her. The notion was checked by the realization that this was not the Battousai she knew. He looked years younger, and his left cheek was marked by only one scar. His clothes were ripped and stained with the blood from multiple wounds. It was obvious that only supreme willpower was keeping him on his feet, his sword in his hand. His eyes were more than deadly. 

The first man shouted and ran forward; Battousai let out a bloodcurdling shriek and rushed to meet him. 

Kaoru had nearly forgotten the woman, and so was startled when a flash of white and blue darted in front of her, between the two combatants. She screamed as the realization of what was about to happen hit her. 

But it was too late; the woman had thrown herself between Battousai and his opponent, and Battousai's sword had gone directly through her and into the other man's heart. The three were frozen into a tableau for several agonizing moments. With a cry of negation, Battousai withdrew his sword. The other man fell to the ground, dead. Battousai just barely managed to catch the woman in his arms and sink with her onto the snow. 

Kaoru crept forward, starring in horrified fascination as Battousai held the woman against his chest, weeping. The woman opened her eyes. Slowly, her hands shaking, she lifted the hand that held the knife-- and crossed the scar on Battousai's cheek. She whispered something Kaoru couldn't hear. The blade fell from her hand; her arm fell limp. Battousai buried his tears in her shoulder. 

Kaoru fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as well. She couldn't bear to look up and see the woman's dead body accusing her, the raw grief wracking the Battousai's frame, the blood staining the snow. She couldn't bear it. She hid her face in her hands and wished desperately that she'd never seen the woman in the first place. Anything would be preferable to being forced to witness this, being unable to help or prevent what had happened. It wasn't fair. She'd wanted to know that woman, had wanted desperately for someone to be her companion in this terrifying place where ghosts walked and no one but the Battousai could see her. And now not even he saw her. Perhaps Kaoru was one of the ghosts now herself, and would stay here forever, unseen, unheard. 

She cried until there were no more tears and her throat was harsh with sobs. Only then did she notice that she wasn't cold, even though a blizzard was raging around her. More, she remembered that she hadn't been cold even when she had stood in the doorway, watching over the ghost woman's shoulder as two men prepared to kill each other in front of her. 

Kaoru looked up, and was too weary to be surprised at what she saw. The blizzard was gone; the dead bodies and the weeping man were gone. The trees were filled with blossoms, drifting down in a shimmering pink rain. Between their trunks she could see the houses of the city she'd spent the day exploring. She could even see her house, a light in the window beckoning her home. 

She turned to look behind her, already knowing what she would see. 

The cabin had disappeared. 

* * *

FYI, my webpage is updated much, much more frequently than this page...so if you look for new installments of my stories, you'll have better luck looking there than here. =) 

This is nominated for an award. Yay! [Wanna see?][1]

ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu   
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Pagoda/8264/anime.html 

   [1]: http://sekihara.dreamhost.com/rkreaders



	4. Chapter Four

* * *

_She is walking through an unfamiliar city. It is night, and the sky is dark; only a few stars can be seen, their light distant and cold. She shivers and hurries, not sure what she is escaping from or running towards, only knowing that she must keep moving, or else... _

The shadow of a great dragon appears on the wall before her; she jumps back with a shriek as the outline moves towards her. She turns to flee, but the buildings have closed in around her--there is nowhere to go. 

She whirls back, sobbing, hands pressed against her mouth, but there is no dragon. A man stands where the dragon would have appeared, watching her with sad eyes. "You're afraid of me," he says sadly. 

She is, so much afraid that she can only find her voice with difficulty. "You're--you're a monster," she stammers. "A murderer." 

His eyes flash at the word; his voice is tinged with frustration. "I gave you my word that no harm would come to you." 

"I don't know what your word is worth!" 

"You won't even give me a chance!" 

"Why should I?" she shouts. She lets herself drown in anger, lets red fury overwhelm the fear that still stings at her eyes. "You've trapped me here, haven't you? You've stolen my family, my entire life!" The words come easily, too easily; she knows they aren't true, she knows_ it, but she is so angry..."I've lost everything because of you!" _

He winces and backs away as though she has hit him with a physical blow. His pain immediately makes her regret her words. Anger and fear both evaporate; she steps forward, concerned at what she might have done to him, but he continues to back away until the shadows envelope him. Determined, she follows him, and walks into darkness. 

The city is gone; all light is gone. Fear engulfs her once more. Why is there no light here? Where _is_ here? 

"Help him." 

The voice comes from nowhere, quiet and unfamiliar. Kaoru turns and looks around, but sees nothing. 

"Please." 

"Where are you?" Kaoru breathes, cowed and curious at once. 

A dim figure appears, walking towards her--a pale woman, with long hair and a white kimono. The woman's face is beautiful but grave, her eyes sad. The scent of plum blossoms fills the air; Kaoru's breath catches in recognition. 

"Help him," the woman repeats. "I try watch over him, but he does not see or hear me as you do. And I can only do so much. You must free him, since I cannot." 

"How?" Kaoru cries. "Tell me how! What does he need? What do you_ need? Why have you never spoken to me until now, why do you always disappear when I see you? What am I supposed to do?" Her voice became more hysterical as she went on. "Tell me!" she demanded. "Tell me what to do!" _

The woman only stares at her, even as she fades away into mist, as the dream fades away into morning... 

Kaoru woke with a start, gasping. She sat very still for a few moments, feeling the dried tears on her face. She looked towards the window, hoping...but the light in the air was the same as it had been when she went to sleep, the same as it had been since her arrival. Nothing had changed. 

She stumbled out of bed, blindly grasping at the neatly-folded kimono beside her bed and changing into it. The last vestiges of her nightmare burned behind her eyelids; she could still see Battousai's pained expression, could still hear the strange ghost woman's voice. Her hands were shaking as she wrapped a dark purple obi around her waist. 

It wasn't fair. Help the Battousai? _Help_ him? He had threatened her father, ordered her to abandon her home to come here...what right had he to courtesy, to _anything_ from her? He was a demon! He deserved nothing but contempt! 

But she knew, knew with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that the thought was wrong. She was here because of the Battousai, yes...but he seemed just as much a prisoner as she. If that were so, they were comrades, not enemies. Ever since her arrival, he had treated her with politeness and respect, and she had lashed out at him--not just in her dream, but at dinner the night before. She had not been fair. 

She finished dressing and pushed open the door that seperated her room from the main hall. A meal was laid out on the table; Kaoru walked by without a glance. She couldn't eat breakfast. She couldn't do anything, not until she found the Battousai and apologized. She hesitated a minute just outside the threshold of her house, uncertain of where to look. 

_You must free him._

The ghost woman's words echoed in her ears. Kaoru shook her head; the dream wasn't important now. She could think about that later. With determination, she began walking down the road, abandoning any pretense of knowing her destination. The city had lead her back home last night, and to the orchard when she wished it; perhaps it would lead her to the Battousai now. 

Almost immediately, the road gave way to a large building, far larger than any of the others Kaoru had seen. She recognized it immediately as a dojo. She stopped and listened, but could hear no sounds from inside. 

_I have never seen any other living creature. No person, no animal. No sounds, save those I make myself..._ But Kaoru had never heard Battousai make any noise at all. He moved as silently as sunlight, and his voice was hushed enough to be mistaken for wind. The building was quiet, but...she pushed open the door. 

He was there, sword in hand, facing an imaginary opponent. His katana twisted, his entire body moved as lightly as leaves in a breeze. Kaoru watched in amazement as the Battousai danced, his sword flashing. 

He landed easily, looking directly at her with an expression of surprise. "Kaoru-dono," he said in greeting. 

She blushed, flustered at having been caught staring, and stammered "G-good morning" in response. 

"Is everything all right?" 

His voice was concerned, and she shook her head immediately. "Oh, no, I'm fine. I just..." She steeled herself. "Battousai," she said quickly. "I want to apologize. I didn't mean to be so rude to you last night." 

He looked at her, eyes thoughtful. "Did you not?" Kaoru bit her lip; he smiled immediately and reassuringly. "No, it's all right. I accept your apology." He resheathed his sword and looked deep into the corners of the dojo. "I have not forgotten under what circumstances you are here at all, and I know you have not forgotten. I would be surprised if you did not resent me." 

Kaoru could think of nothing to say in responce to that--at least, nothing true, for she _did_ resent him, could not help but resent him--so she instead looked at the room around them. It was massive, the largest room she had ever seen; their voices echoed, even though she was speaking only barely above a whisper. Her eyes caught on a large cupboard, not far away. She walked over, ran her fingers along the doorframe, searching for safe topics of conversation. "You spend your time here?" 

Battousai nodded. "Usually, yes. Here, or in the orchard, or occassionally reading." He smiled again, very briefly, at her astonished expression. "Many of the houses have extensive bookshelves." 

"Oh." The wood of the cupboard was very fine; not a single splinter caught at her fingertips. "What's in here?" 

Battousai gestured for her to open it. Kaoru found the latch and lifted it; one of the great doors swung open. She caught her breath and stepped away, feeling a chill run down her back. 

Weapons. Swords, spears, axes, knives, throwing stars...more weapons than she had ever seen in one place before, more weapons than she could name. Metal gleamed cold in the light. The room suddenly seemed much darker. 

"It's an impressive selection." 

Battousai's voice startled her; Kaoru jumped, and turned back to look at him, amazed. "You--you can use all these?" she squeaked. 

He shook his head. "I only know the sword." He smiled at her once again, reassuring, and despite herself Kaoru was reassured. His admission relieved her, and she turned back to the display. There was an empty shelf, space for one more sword amidst all the other weapons--a place where Battousai could hang his own katana. Below it was something interesting: a sword made not out of metal, but of wood. 

Kaoru reached out a hand to touch the strange weapon. It was made of stalks of bamboo, lashed together to form the shape of a sword. She picked it up, and liked the weight of it, the way it felt in her hand. 

She turned back to the Battousai, an idea striking her--a way to make amends, a way to fill the time that crawled by unseen. "Could you teach me to use this?" 

He blinked, looking startled for the first time since she had come here. "I...have no experience teaching." 

"Then we can both learn from the experience," Kaoru said firmly. 

He looked at her oddly. "That is not a sword. As I said, I only know the sword." 

Her smile was bright, and she held up the bamboo weapon proudly. "It's like a sword. I could teach myself, maybe, and we could spar. It would give me something to do." There was more in the offer than the promise of a way of spending time; this was her apology, her way of showing that she would try to trust him, with her safety if not her heart. 

He ran his fingers along the edge of the shinai. "It has no edge. That puts you at a disadvantage, if you're fighting a swordsman." 

"You could use a practise sword. There are several in the cabinet, and they don't have an edge either," she pointed out. 

He smiled a bit at that. "And so you are safe with me. But later, if you are fighting a true opponent?" 

"I don't care. I don't want to learn how to kill, I only want to know how to defend myself. Or others." 

Battousai was silent, staring at her chosen weapon. "What if you took up a sword in order to defend someone?" he asked quietly. "What if your only choice was to kill or be killed?" 

Kaoru took a deep breath, fearing his response to her answer. "I don't know. But, I don't believe killing is justified. Not for any reason." 

Battousai rubbed his eyes with a hand and did not answer. Encouraged by his silence, Kaoru dared further. "What do you think?" 

He looked surprised. "I...don't know," he said thoughtfully. "Once, I thought that the ends would justify the means. But now..." He shook his head. "I am no longer certain." 

Their eyes met for a brief moment; Kaoru looked away almost immediately, troubled by his expression. 

Battousai took a step towards the cabinet; he leaned his katana against the wall and lifted one of the wooden practise swords. "If you truly wish it, I will teach you. We can begin now, if you like." 

Kaoru nodded. 

* * *

This is a rough draft, but I thought I'd post it anyway. I'll replace this with the complete version once it's finished. My homepage is updated much, much more regularly that this...if you like this story, you might want to keep an eye on that instead. http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Pagoda/8264/kenshin.html 


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